Dead Man's Trigger
by TheWriterAredWolf
Summary: The story of an Author murdered and wakes up as his character in a new world. The world is aimed for his throat and hes willing to fight for a good story.


Darkness and the sound of a metronome continued to tick over and over again a man resting on an isle sat up rubbing his eyes his short black hair and brown eyes looked very tired. His clothes were average a dress white shirt buttoned halfway and black pants. He looked around the room, letting out a sigh spotting multiple books he used for research for his characters and the world. Many crumpled up pieces of paper of rejected ideas and finally a basket next to the isle which held a stack of papers holding the accepted pages.

Suddenly a knock was heard from the shadow covered door it sounded angry. The man turned back to his work and spoke up. "Come in." He said as he continued to write straining his eyes as the door opened and light poured in he didn't have to look to know who it was his wife. She was dressed high class as if she was going to a special dinner every day she might have as well how she acts.

"Is that story finished yet?" She said her words sounded both annoyed and slurred she was drunk again. The man never married her by choice it was his family's idea he only went with it when he was promised to be left alone to his stories. She never loved him only the money he both had and made with his stories it annoyed him but he couldn't really do anything about it if he did she would try to ruin his life all in all too noisy.

"I'm about halfway done," he said only to hear the sound of glass smashing on the floor. "Halfway!" She yelled and ran over nearly ripping him out of his chair holding him by his collar. "You need to stop with your hard-headedness we need that book out now or we won't be getting any money rolling in have you seen your ratings they're going down fast!" The man looked at her in her eyes seeing her hair was slightly messy she was one of those days.

"You mean you need the money." He said as she looked very annoyed before letting him go as he sat back down and began writing once again he heard her walking away.

"If you want money get a job already." The man's comment remained still for a moment before he heard the sound of liquid being poured on the ground. He looked up to see what she was doing before a flash of pain across his head. He fell to the ground and checked his head seeing his hand was covered in blood. He looked back up to her noticing a bottle in her hand cracked and some strands of his hair sticking to it. Don't you dare talk to me that way you third rate idiot? You're lucky I married you without me your nothing!" She said as she attacked him again he was able to move out of the way just in time to see the bottle shatter next to him.

"You idiot!" He shouted only to anger her even more as she picked up a few books and began to throw them at him he held up his hands to block but in a twist of fate one book slipped through hitting him in the head knocking him back. He hit the ground hard his head and neck hurt as he strained to stand back up. 'Dammit why can't i have peace and quiet, why can't others leave me alone. as he stood up he shouted. "Get out of my house already you dumbass" Or he tried to as he tried to he coughed and once more he looked to the ground only to notice blood spilling from his mouth.

He was confused 'what's going on' he thought as he checked only to feel something sticking into his neck the feeling was...glass. He looked back to the floor noticing where he had fallen directly where the bottle shattered he then felt it the many shards of glass on the back of his head and neck. He looked back to her struggling to breathe her eyes that were struck with shock said everything She turned and ran as he fell to the ground. The pain was shooting through his body he felt drained as if he ran a mile he couldn't feel his feet anymore. He strained for the open door but soon his hand fell unmoving. 'Move dammit this isn't how i'll die' He thought as he couldn't move anymore the pain was nearly gone and he knew what was next. 'Damn this is lame...i don't.' His eyes began to fall everything was shutting down even his thoughts were slowly but surely coming to an end 'i...don't' he blood filled throat tried to get air but there was only blood his mind began to slip into darkness 'i... he felt nothing no air no pain nothing until he was completely consumed by darkness his death has come for him.

'I.. don't. don't like this ending'

He felt the ever-present darkness was all around him nothing to feel and nothing to see he couldn't think. Until he felt the warm touch on his cheek warm it was soft making him remember a field of grass it was comforting. Then he felt air slowly fill his mouth and throat and as if by instinct his body took a breath gasping he sat up he coughed over and over before taking a deep breath. How was he alive was he in the hospital it's not possible. His eyes opened ever so slightly seeing part of his vision was blocked .a hood he looked below the hood only to see grass he touched it, it was soft and real he stood up and as if they were asleep he fell to the ground. He reached up pulling off the hood only to see grass around him and forest surrounding this clearing. "What's...?" He said as he tried to look at himself only to be surprised he wasn't dressed like he once was. He wore black pants but up his left leg was the design of blue flames that covered half of the pants. He wore an ashen colored vest with white embroidery and a black dress shirt underneath, His hood was more of a shawl its dark color complimented the two long red tufts that reached his knees they reminded him of a scarf. The shawl itself looked like a darker version of what a priestess would wear. The more surprising pieces he had was three guns he had in holsters two under each arm and one on his leg slightly seeing part of his vision was blocked '...a hood' he looked below the hood only to see grass he touched it, it was soft and real he stood up and as if they were asleep he fell to the ground. He reached up pulling off the hood only to see grass around him and a forest surrounding this clearing. "Whats...?" He said as he tried to look at himself only to be surprised he wasn't dressed like he once was. He wore black pants but but up his left leg was the design of blue flames that covered half of the pants. He wore an ashen colored vest with white embroidery and a black dress shirt underneath, His hood was more of a shawl its dark color complimented the two long red tufts that reached his knees they reminded him of a scarf. The shawl itself looked like a darker version of what a priestess would wear.

The more surprising pieces he has was three gun he had in holsters two under each arm and one on his hip. The two under-his-arms resembled beretta 92fs though there was a red gem in both of the grips. The heavier one on his hip was similar to a SW .500 it was big and heavy or he thought as felt stronger for some reason he was confused was he taken care of change and abandoned in the forest that doesn't make sense. He then thought for a bit before a thought came to mind and he looked around before another thought came to mind he grabbed one of the small guns from his holsters and looked through the reflection.

He saw long-Dark hair and in the light it changed to that of purple hair his eyes were were purple as well. "Im Pythius?" He said as he remembered his book that he wrote it was the clothing that gave it away he remembered having to write the clothing more than once and recognized it but why did he look like this? Why was he here? What's going on? He tried to remember Pythius

from his books as he was sure he was him now as his body felt stronger and one could't simply get stronger from a bed could they and a face change? Pythius was a warrior and by no means a hero nor was he a villain he simply was a survivor and was against the hero and their journey simply because the hero's heroics were causing trouble for those below and his village was destroyed. Pythius was a magic caster though he used pistols to channel his magic for a rather destroyed. Pythius was a magic caster though he used pistols to channel his magic for a rather interesting way of fighting. The pistol on his hip was Pythius's strongest weapon as it consumed all his magic for a powerful shot it was named Solomon. The two pistols on each side were the most used they used less magic and were used for regular combat they were named The Twin Princes. Though of course magic was finite and so the only way Pythius could regain magic was through either rest, items, or fighting without it thus he had regular bullets that helped him regain magic though slowly.

He began to laugh to himself as it couldn't be possible sure it was a fantasy he wished for but its not possible. His laughing slowly stopped and his eyes rested on the gun in his hand still. He stood up straight looking at the gun. It's not possible." He said as he hesitantly raised the gun aiming randomly into the forest. His heartbeat began to rush as he thought of what might happen if it worked then he felt something as he placed his finger on the trigger the gem in the grip it felt like it was sucking his skin like a vacuum but it wasn't his skin something else. His face was that of confusion before he said. "Could it?" He said as he pulled the trigger it fired his hand pulled back as it let out a blue energy shooting out hitting a tree in the treeline then the sound of a heavy impact. As the smoke cleared he saw a hole in the tree about a half a foot wide and clear through into the dirt.

His eyes widened as he fell to his knees and the gun fell to the dirt. It is real." He said as he realised as he was not possibly in his own world. Then a thought came to him as he picked the gun up and holstered it and began to pace. "But what else changed. I'm in a new world yes but what about my body I feel stronger but what else?" He then began to do a few fighting moves they were clunky and not good for combat. "It seems that the skills Pythius knew didn't transfer over some magic skills maybe but no physical. It almost seems like a game you finished maxed out then left for years only to pick it back up trying to relearn." He said as he then sat next to the tree in the middle of the clearing thinking to himself. "But the bigger question is an i in the world of my book or a different one?"

He leaned back on the tree looking to the sky smelling the fresh air and the grass. "Though can't complain about the air it much cleaner than my polluted world." He said as a thought shot through his mind of his wife in shock and he quickly touched his neck where the glass had stabbed him. "So that did kill me."

He closes his eyes and remembers every detail and sighs again then a ringing was heard near his ear he opened his eyes noticing something bright then his eyes focused to see a metal blade and holding it was a man dressed in leather armor and a bald head he carried the air of a bandit. Who are you and what are you doing here?" The man said in a gruff voice. He didn't know what to do Pythius wasn't a person who could shake of hits like a game character even regular attacks could harm him. Thus, he thought things were not different for him. So he held up his hand and thought for a few moments thinking of what to say. "Im Pythius Amar...I kind of got lost in the forest and decided to take rest here." He said as the man stared daggers at Pythius before sheathing his blade. "Fine, get off of my wife then." He said as Pythius went wide eyed and got up quick thinking he was sitting on someone but saw no one only the tree then the man produced a bundle of whiteflowers and placed them at the base of the tree and knelt down and began to pray. Pythius then took a better look at the tree and saw an engraving on the tree. "Elizabeth Moro 1324-1378"

Pythius thought this was some sort of twisted sense of irony as he died from his wife only to wake up in a new world on a wife's grave. "Did she live happy?" Pythius asked as the man nodded. "Honestly she was too happy helped everyone and was always telling me to stop scowling." He turned to look at Pythius and smiled. "Thanks that's really the first time anyone asked me that." He said as he began to stand up.

"Trust me I've been to many funerals and understand what some people should really be remembering. The good things." Pythius said as the man chuckled then nodded. "Sorry for leveling a blade on you my name is Garrick Sordon" Garrick said making Pythius tilt his head. Not Moro." Pythius could stop himself from asking and Garrick looked back to the grave. "That's her family name she kept it." Garrick said and Pythius nodded. You said you were lost right?" Pythius was surprised as he forgot what he had lied about before speaking.

"Yes been lost for a bit could you possibly help me to the nearby town?" Pythius said as Garrick nodded and turned to walk with Pythius following close behind they entered the treeline on a small path that Pythius only assumed Garrick made with his constant walks out here. Pythius continued to follow for quite a while which was weird and Pythius decided to speak up. "So was it the anniversary of her passing or.." Pythius wanted to ask a different question but really did know too much. "Yes." This response caught Pythius off guard as he slightly thought Garrick might dodge the question.

"She passed due to an attack from some bandits. She tried protecting some kids luckily the kids got away but she didn't make it." Garrick looked a little sullen but then looked back to Pythius still walking through the forest. "What about you you say you were lost what were you doing out here?" He said as Pythius then thought to himself for a while before speaking up. "lm a writer I was looking for a quiet place to write. But my head was to deep in the books." Pythius looked a bit sheepish while Garick let out a hearty laugh. "Really interesting i guess that's why..." Garrick continued to laugh while Pythius looked up in confusion. "What do you mean that's why?" Garrick looked back to Pythius with a smile. "You didn't have that air of being a threat."

Pythius chuckled to himself and honestly felt close to this old guy and as they closed in on the end of the forest line. As they broke through the forest on top of a hill and down below Pythius spotted a rather small village with houses that he could count on both hands though this seemed to be a farming village with large fields of wheat. Pythius although knowing much greater feats back in his world was rather impressed by the purity of it no tractors no large metal fixtures to mess with this world with this Pythius checked his person and sighing and looking to Garrick. "Hey Garrick sorry to impose but it seems i misplaced both my money and my book is it possible to retrieve a book in town." Garrick laughed again. Well isn't that ironic the one burying his face in books loses the book he kept his eyes on."

Pythius chuckle and rolled. "Yes the irony is not lost on me." He then felt the hand of Garrick slap his back. "Well for a book i can see if anyone has one but without money where will you stay?" Pythius thought to himself thinking Garrick already knew he didn't have an answer.

Garrick then walked forward down the hill and waving back to Pythius. "Don't worry i have room no objection got it?" Garrick said as Pythius tried to reject the offer but the words failed him as he resigned to follow Garrick into the small village.


End file.
